Family

Alexis,

Growing up, there was this ideal family in my head.
The happily married mum and dad and their biological children.

From a relatively young age, my sister, Emily, and I would walk down the street, talking in our “grown-up” voices (which sounded American, for some reason) talking about our five children (what was I thinking?!) and our husbands who were, in our words, “oh my gosh, always at work!” This was, to me, the way a family should be.

As I grew older, I started to feel bad for anyone with a familythat didn’t fit into my perfect family mould. In my mind, they were missing out. Surely they had no chance of growing up to be a whole person after having an incomplete childhood. My mind was closed because I had never known any other way. I never had the opportunity to really experience anything different. Later, I worked within schools and parts of the community where separated families were the norm. I was surprised to see that those living in this environment didn’t seem broken or lost, in fact, they generally seemed to be normal, happy and whole.

And then it happened.
Your dad and I signed our divorce papers.
We signed the papers in an office in Hobart, with one of your dad’s friends, a lawyer.
And just like that, your dad and I were another statistic.
A failed marriage, a divorced couple, a broken family.

I was living the same life as those that I had felt so sorry for. My circumstances were a turning point for me and I quickly let go of my previous opinion. I realised that there was no right or wrong when it came to families. What was once a black and white topic (like many of the topics I write about), was now blue and pink and orange. A genuine rainbow of emotions.

It’s amazing how walking a mile in someone’s shoes givesyou instant grace and understanding. Suddenly, we have insight into all of the issues that we couldn’t have ever began to understand beforehand.

I still struggled, at times. One day, when your dad and I were separated but still married, I sat in church. The preacher spoke about how God wanted happy families, that he wanted people together and strong. The point was made loud and clear, “God doesn’t want broken families”. Every time he said it, I cringed and sunk into my seat a little bit more. I felt like everyone was sitting there and thinking about us. I felt the power of their gazes burning into the back of my head. I wondered if there was some way that I could sneak out inconspicuously from the front of the church. I decided that I couldn’t. I already felt judged; I couldn’t handle the idea of people thinking, “I guess she had to leave because she knew the sermon was for her”. Instead, I looked down at my phone and blocked out the rest of the sermon.

I felt like a failure in that moment. According to the man standing in front of the church, I had failed. Christian marriages are not meant to fail. While I didn’t disagree completely with what the preacher was saying, I did struggle with his point of view. I knew that his idea of the perfect family was the one I believed in just a few years prior.
The happily married mum and dad and their biological children.

I wondered if he had any idea that his definition of a “broken family” was some people’s definition of a whole family. My whole family.

Let me explain, Alexis.

When I chose to move in with my parents, after living with your dad, I believed (and still do believe) it was a healthy decision for all three of us. I think by the time I left, every remnant of our relationship was gone. We were not fighting for us, for our relationship and our family anymore; we were just struggling to stay at the same residential address.
Your dad would leave to go to work before you and I had woken up. We would spend the day together, then your dad would come home to spend some time with you, we would eat dinner and then put you to bed. At this point, I was teaching myself to run. While you slept, I would go for a run and your dad would stay with you, listening out for you. I would come home and either sit outside and smoke or sit behind a locked door and cut. One of us would wait for the other to go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

During this time, I became increasingly more depressed and suicidal. I wasn’t in a space to fight for anything other thanmy life and my health. I missed out on time with you and your dad. I could no longer see the beauty of life. I had nothing left to give and I knew I needed my parents, the safety and comfort that I could only find with them. I needed their protection, their feeling of safety, someone to cook for me, to check on me and make sure I was okay. I had reverted back tomy teenage years. I was a child with a child and I needed my parents.

When moving in with my parents, I decided that it was better for both of your parents to be living, present in your life and loving you, even if they lived in separate houses. It would be much better than if you were living with both of us, arguing or not talking at all, in a toxic environment under a single roof. At the time, I wanted to die but I felt hopeful that those feelings would pass. I also knew that for me to continueliving, I needed to be with my parents.

When I was young, I remember my mum and dad fighting all the time. For years, Mum had unknowingly been living with a brain tumour, causing uncontrollable mood swings, which put pressure not only on her brain, but also on her relationship with her husband and our family. Nevertheless, Mum and Dad are still together, after nearly 40 years. And gosh, have they been through some shit! I couldn’t be any prouder of themand how they have coped with all that life threw at them. I do, however, remember listening to them fighting sometimes, wishing that they would get a divorce. To me, a divorce meant silence. And, despite my firm belief on what a family should look like, I desperately wanted their fighting to end.

I sometimes wonder what impact their fighting may have had on me. I wonder what I would have done differently, what choices I would have made differently. All I know is that I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want fighting. Or silence. And I wanted us both to be alive.

Alexis, the truth is, at times, I’ve felt sorry for you too.
You grew up in a broken family. I have wondered if, because of this, you wouldn’t know real love. That you would miss out. That you wouldn’t grow into a whole person. It has been this persistent thought, deep in the back of my mind…

The happily married mum and dad and their biological children.
Anything outside of this happy little archetype is a broken family.

Bull. Shit.
Here is my truth. A broken family is one where love is absent and where love cannot grow. A broken family is one where children feel neglected, abandoned, alone. A broken family is one where adults are desperate, trapped and hurt, bruised internally or externally.

In the bible, there are many stories about broken families. In fact, a lot of lessons are based on the experiences of these broken families. Brother killing brother, families selling each other into slavery, and single mothers whom God blessed. And let’s not forget about Jesus’ own mother, a woman who was unmarried while she was pregnant. Jesus even had a stepdad. Yes, I may or may not be taking this out of context to prove a point but my point remains valid. If God had something, anything, against broken families why would their stories be scattered throughout the bible?

You and I have been our own family unit for years now, and neither of us are any less blessed for it. In fact, I believe the opposite is true. We have a beautiful relationship. We have shared so much and experienced so much together. And lovehas always been present. You will always be loved, deeply and unconditionally.

Alexis, a family doesn’t need to look a certain way for it to be a strong family. I don’t believe in the perfection of the traditional family anymore. The mum and dad and their biological children might be a broken family while our familyis whole. The only thing that makes a family broken is a lack of love and safety.

A loving family with two mums? Two dads? A single dad? Step-mum and dad? Step-dad and mum? Adopted parents? Foster parents? What about those with no children at all? These families can all be whole.

Do the children live in a place where they feel loved, safe, protected, valued, and cared for? Do the adults live in a place where they feel loved, safe, protected, valued, and cared for?
If the answer to both of these question is yes, the family is whole, it doesn’t matter what the family structure looks like.

A few weeks back, I was laying on a towel on the beach, listening to you and Alex laugh and play as you ran through the water. Your baby brother moved in my belly, reminding me that soon he will be right there with us. In that moment, it dawned on me that our little family is changing. There is now a mum, a daughter, a stepdad and a half-brother for us to meet soon. And there is love, so much love. Our family is not perfect. But we are working on it and talking about it. We are taking steps to strengthen our little family unit even more.

Our family is not broken. It is whole.

And your dad is getting re-married. You’ll have a step-mum and a step-sister in November. I can’t talk on behalf of them, nor do I want to. But do I believe there is love whenyou are at your dad’s house? Yes.

Your family is not broken. It is whole.

Family, Alexis, is not just a mum, a dad and their biological children.
Yes, that’s definitely one type of family, but that is not your family. Your family may be all over the place, but we will always love and care for each other. We will always love and care for you. We are not “broken” because our family looks different. We are exactly as we should be.

Alexis, I shouldn’t feel bad for you at all. Your family may not fit the traditional mould but you are lavished with love. You are loved in two houses, in two families, by four adults. I can’t feel bad for you when I think about it like that. I know you love all four of us too. You tell me how you miss Ryan when she is away at a conference. You count down the hours before seeing your dad. You always want to message Alex and ask when he will be over. You know more love than some people ever will. You are so blessed, my sweet little poppet, to have a mum and dad who love you fully, and Ryan and Cobby who love you as though they’ve always known you and always loved you.

Alexis,
As you watch your family expand beyond you, your dad and I, please don’t feel like you weren’t enough for us. You always were and always will be enough. You will always be your dad’s and my first love. In fact, I never thought I would allow another person into our family. I never believed that I would ever give you a brother or sister. I was always completely at peace with the idea of just you and me.
However, I am so grateful that our little duo is extending, and I’m so glad that it’s with Alex.
My heart is beyond full.

When there was only us, we were our own family and I am and always will be incredibly proud to be your Mum, your family. I am who I am because of you. Just as you are, to a certain extent, who you are because of me. People will never know all that we have been through together. You taught me how to be a kinder and more patient person. You taught me how to love, how to care for someone else.

You taught me what family really is.

I’m going to miss our little family, our duo. I’m going to miss our days, our mornings and nights together. I crave more time with you as I know that it will be different soon. I will miss our alone time but I will always make time for us. I will always go on dates with you. You are not, nor will you ever be, forgotten or left behind.

How blessed are we though, to have a man who loves us both fully. To have a baby brother coming soon who we can love. To have a family that looks different to what we’ve ever known.

I’m excited for what’s to come too, without a doubt. And I know you are too.